


hematokyoant

by elfiepike



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Blood, Consent Issues, Kidnapping, M/M, forced bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-29
Updated: 2001-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 22:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfiepike/pseuds/elfiepike
Summary: The traffic is terrible.Absolutely horrendous, Shinya thinks. He crouches on the floor of the limosine by the mini-bar and has a steadying hand placed gently against the tinted window.  The vehicle has not moved for three minutes now.Kyo has been asleep for fifteen.





	hematokyoant

**Author's Note:**

> aeslis found this saved from way back when and sent it to me. reader beware! explicit nonconsent and dubious consent for explicitly unsafe fade-to-black activities. accidental and intentional violence. also a wiff of the ol' misogyny, oh The Past. pretty mild, all things considered!
> 
> posting 6/28/2017. backdated approx. to original posting date.

The traffic is terrible.

 _Absolutely horrendous_ , Shinya thinks. He crouches on the floor of the limosine by the mini-bar and has a steadying hand placed gently against the tinted window. The vehicle has not moved for three minutes now.

Kyo has been asleep for fifteen.

Shinya had always known that Kyo could sleep anywhere, but it was new to him that the vocalist could sleep _through_ anything as well. 

_A convenient talent_ , Shinya thinks.

He spends a moment watching Kyo breathe. Another person, in his place, would admire the drummer's ingenuity and quick handiwork: one necktie acting as a blindfold, the other fastening Kyo's pretty hands to the hand-hold above the window. It's a bit awkward, but with the seatbelt on, Kyo is effectively restrained.

Just the way Shinya wants him.

_"Now's your chance, Shinchan!" Toshiya tells him as they leave the award ceremony._

_Shinya is not startled that Toshiya knows of his desire. He does find it serendipitous that the bassist approves, though. Toshiya has a habit of being overprotective of Kyo._

_Toshiya grins and winks. "You're definitely way better than the girls he's been dating recently, ne?"_

_Ah. So that's why._

The limo moves forward another two feet.

Kyo's tongue slips out along his lips, a swift movement that is over too quickly, and he is awake.

Shinya smiles, and a strange happiness settles along the rims of his eyes, like glitter.

"Nnn..." Kyo stretches one of his legs, and then suddenly sits straighter. He pulls at his hands. "What the hell?!" Clearly he has discovered his capture. 

"Konbanwa, Kyokun." Shinya's voice is like crunchy peanutbutter; his normally laughable tone has been changed by the subtle violence in his veins. 

Kyo stills, and Shinya cherishes the vocalist's rare vulnerability. "Shinya?" It's as if Kyo can't determine if he should be pissed off or happy that it's someone he knows.

If Kyo could read Shinya's mind, he would have no trouble deciding. 

_"Kyo doesn't date men, usually," Toshiya discloses, his voice low and his glance bright. "But he'll warm up to the idea. He's that kind of person."_

_This idea intrigues Shinya. "What kind of person does that make him?"_

_"Oh," Toshiya says, matter-of-fact, "the kind that can't help enjoying themselves." He sucks delicately at his cigarette, the real reason he had pulled Shinya outside ten minutes before everyone else. "Don't underestimate your strengths, Shinchan: rhythm, mystery, and a hell of a right punch." He grins cheekily and smoke seeps out of his mouth from between his teeth._

_For once, Shinya doesn't mind the smell._

"Yes?" Shinya crosses the few feet that separate Kyo and himself in the contained space of the limosine. ( _Perhaps_ , his mind wanders, _I am now where I was five minutes ago._ ) He is close enough that Kyo can surely feel the tips of Shinya's hair against his forehead; the drummer places himself carefully, so as not to disturb his captive.

Kyo shies away from the sensation and attempts a snarl, but his lips and piercings alone are too pretty for it to be effective. The bits of metal seem only to enhance the vocalist's appeal, like swirls of sauce on steak.

Shinya wants to pierce Kyo like that.

Kyo speaks, growls really: "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

Shinya remembers how Kyo's voice was the deciding factor when he joined La:Sadies, and closes his eyes. "Making you mine, of course." 

"Shinya, you--" Kyo protests, but Shinya takes this opportunity to glide his mouth against his vocalist's, sealing Kyo's words with his tongue. 

Kyo tastes almost of nothing, just wetness and the faint bitter flavor that all smokers seem to have. Kyo's teeth are sharp and smooth and symetrically crooked. Kyo's mouth is slick, soft gums and a tongue like rough sandpaper underwater.

Shinya enjoys himself thoroughly until Kyo bites down, and he reacts before he means to, pulling back and slapping with more force than necessary. 

A red handprint blooms slowly on Kyo's cheek in the resulting silence, and the car vibrates smoothly as it starts and stops once more.

They are quiet, a tense silence that thrums with the motor and something far less tangible.

Kyo says: "Untie me." 

_His hands are truly beautiful_ , Shinya thinks. He's pulled away from the vocalist, and sits on his heels. 

Kyo begins to struggle. "Untie me!"

 _He must be uncomfortable_ , Shinya thinks, staring unblinkingly at the other man. He rests his fingertips on top of Kyo's knees. 

Kyo stills, and Shinya can hear his breathing, harsh and quiet.

 _Maybe_ , Shinya thinks. He is having second thoughts. "Kyokun?"

Kyo doesn't answer; perhaps he feels that any response would be redundant.

"Would you like something to drink, Kyokun?" Shinya had meant to say something about how this situation was entirely Toshiya's fault, but _that_ , the drummer admits to himself, would have been mostly untrue. It is Shinya's fault that Toshiya even set anything up.

Shinya turns back to the mini-bar. In the refrigerator he finds a bottle of champagne and at the steady speed of three-miles-an-hour he pours Kyo a glass.

Shinya knows that Kyo doesn't like to drink, but it will be a distraction while Shinya ponders what he should do with his captive.

He lifts the fluted glass to Kyo's lips; the vocalist is surprisingly docile. Shinya is careful not to touch him. He wants to save his strength.

The limosine lurches suddenly forward and down as it hits pothole. Shinya is thrown against Kyo ( _So this is why we wear seatbelts_ , he thinks) and the glass angles _just right_ so that it shatters upon impact with Kyo's jaw. There is stillness for a bare second and then the back wheels careen across the pothole, and the remnants of the glass (just a stem by now) slice across Kyo's face and neck.

Kyo cries, then, something loud and profane, but Shinya doesn't notice; he is fascinated by Kyo's blood as it emerges from the thin slivers in his flesh, and the splinters of glass that sparkle dangerously within the wounds.

Shinya can't hold back (he doesn't _want_ to hold back): he closes the inches between himself and Kyo with his tongue, and, cat-like, tastes Kyo's neck.

He can feel Kyo shudder beneath his mouth, and the smooth places of Kyo's throat are pleasantly salty. He reminds himself, _There's glass, be careful,_ but it seems the splinters have already seeped away.

The vocalist's blood tastes of iron.

"Shinya," Kyo ventures, his voice low and raw.

"Shh," Shinya says in the space between Kyo's jaw and shoulder. "Don't ruin it."

Shinya makes quick work of Kyo's buttons. (The silent voyeur is amazed that he can do this one-handed.) He marvels that he is close enough to feel Kyo's breath hitch in his throat. He closes his eyes, and pushes the shirt off Kyo's shoulders. _If only I had fastened his seatbelt differently_ , Shinya thinks.

He traces a path down Kyo's torso with the glass; his touch is so light as to leave Kyo breathless.

Shinya is pleased with this result. 

He removes himself from the heat of Kyo's jaw and is fascinated by the thin line of blood that traverses Kyo's chest and belly. 

It does not occur to him that he is the cause of this trail of beaded crimson.

"Kyo," Shinya whispers, leaning close once more, "Kyokun, how will you let the world know that you are mine?"

He still holds the remnants of the champagne glass; its jagged edge is marred by a faint hint of blood, still wet. 

Kyo's pulse is a heady rhythm. Shinya promises himself he will pattern a drum beat off it.

Shinya tests the maleability of Kyo's lips with his tongue. 

When Kyo does not answer, Shinya pulls back. He is curious, his eyes narrow. That Kyo says nothing infuriates him somehow. "Will you tattoo my name across your skin?"

In the darkness of the limited space, Shinya wishes he could see Kyo's eyes. He would know what insolence Kyo had within him, if that were the case. (Shinya holds himself apart from his friends because he knows their effrontery would trigger an unseen predator in Shinya's muscle-memory. Shinya is very strong; this kind of attack would not go victimless.)

"My skin," Kyo says, tilting his head to show the wounded expanse of his neck, "is not worthy of that."

"Ah," Shinya says. He is satisfied with this answer, and with the manner in which Kyo offers himself to the drummer. "Perhaps we shall go deeper."

Shinya removes Kyo's blindfold. He had not intended to do so; something sharp and rebellious is conveyed through the fluttering of Kyo's eyelids. 

The air, static, has changed.

Shinya stills. _I won't allow him to play along_ , he thinks. _He must mean it._

"You're laughing at me," Shinya says. A subtle shift has occurred; there is a tense moment.

Shinya knows now that he will attack. He wonders, briefly, if Kyo knows the language that his lashes contained.

The glass in his fist is smooth against his palm. The streetlights lay a golden sheen upon Kyo's bare chest. The blood is dazzlingly dark against the planes of his abdomen.

Their eyes meet.

_They can hear people moving about inside. Toshiya glances at the door, allowing himself another leisurely inhalation of tobacco and nicotene and the various other disgusting things that Shinya refrained from telling the pretty bassist about. "Try not to break him too badly, ne, Shinchan?"_

Shinya can feel the limosine pick up speed. Perhaps they have passed a crash, one with three fatalities, and bodies so ruined by metal that they are unrecognizable and the police have to use dental records and car registration to identify the dead.

 _Toshiya does not know what I want,_ Shinya realizes. The aggression that he normally beats away through performances and silent glances at his watch has stirred his muscles. 

Shinya imparts this revelation: "Toshiya does not know what I want." He looks steadily where he knows Kyo's eyes to be.

The vocalist's are shaded and dark, highlighted by glistening wetness. 

Shinya lays his hand flat upon Kyo's belly, and suddenly it's as if he can understand every neuron in Kyo's body; he could read Kyo's capilleries as roads towards Kyo's heart and brain, if he wanted to.

 _Kyo's skin must be as soft as pudding,_ Shinya thinks, and the glass sinks past the epidermal layer with no resistance.

_"Shinya, I thought--" Toshiya is an amusing mix of reprimand and worry. He arrived at the hospital before Shinya thought he would, before Kaoru or Die even. He is breathless, panting. "I know that I--that it's none of my business, really--but..."_

_Shinya takes pity on him. "He's fine, ne, Toshiyakun."_

_Kaoru and Die emerge from the elevator. Shinya smiles._

**Author's Note:**

> hematokyoant: "being, promoting or causing blood kyo" 
> 
> ten years later i would go on to write an arashi fic where [sho was tied up in a limo in traffic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/155718), ha!


End file.
